Three Little Words
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: Who knew saying 'I love you' would be so hard? Dean tries to voice his feelings for Jo...and fails miserably. Will he ever get it right?  Dean/Jo One-Shot Series. A birthday gift for Silverspoon!
1. Little Black Dress

**A/N: **I was once told by a reviewer that my birthday fics were "seriously the best ever." I don't know if that's true...but I couldn't resist giving my girl **Silverspoon** a big ol' shout out for her special day!

If you know her, you probably know that Sam is a BIG Dean/Jo fan...so what better way to help her celebrate? I have a total of 10 installments of varying lengths planned, the last of which I will post on her birthday. It's an absurdly tight schedule...and means Dean/Jo goodness almost daily for the next week. Can you handle it?

Many, many thanks to **stephaniew** for her friendship and betaing skills...here's to hoping she won't be pulling out her hair and thinking of firing me before this is all done. Steph, babe, I wouldn't have a chance at pulling this off without you...you rock.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_.

Little Black Dress

Dean fidgets with his cufflink. "If you don't hurry, Sam's gonna leave without us."

Red fingernails wrap around the door, opening it just wide enough for big, brown eyes to meet laughing green ones. "You're not the one that has to wear a dress," she says, frowning at him.

He sees an errant curl fall from the pile Jo's pinned up. Watches the way it wisps toward her shoulder in a soft wave. Aches to brush it behind her ear solely for the chance to touch her skin. "I'm sure you look fine..." he says.

"It's not the dress I'm worried about," Jo hisses as she steps through the door, pulling on shoes. "It's these damn heels..." She takes a half hop step forward, nearly tripping.

Dean's arms are around her quickly. "I love..." He stops short of saying the words when their eyes meet. Recovering quickly, he gives her a lopsided grin. Remembering the way the vintage satin cocktail number clung to her every curve, he adds, "This dress."

She laughs to hide her discomfort. He hadn't just... No. She had to be imagining things. "Close your mouth, Dean-O. You act like you've never seen a girl in a dress before," she teases to break the tension.

He brushes over her cheek with the tips of his fingers, his tongue flickering over his lower lip. "It's not like you wear them often," he snickers.

He watches the way her impossibly long lashes fan over her cheeks as she blushes, the hint of mascara she wears making her eyes somehow brighter. Unable to resist, he gives her the gentlest of kisses, longing for more as his fingertips caress her jawline.

With the pad of her thumb, she strokes the tiny smudge of transferred lipstick from his mouth. "And you got on me for making us late," she says, staring into his emerald eyes.

"I'll be down in a minute," he says, his fingers plucking at the thin strap on her shoulder. "You go ahead."

She chuckles, a saucy grin crossing her face as she sashays toward the bedroom door. "Frontal alignment problem, babe?"

He shakes a finger at her. "You watch that pretty little mouth, or you'll pay for it later..."

She looks at him, her eyes serious even though she can't stop the smile from touching her lips. "Oh, I'm counting on it..."


	2. Nobody Touches His Baby

**A/N: **Y'all are too sweet! I love that we can all come together over how far Dean can stick his foot in his mouth and I'm glad that everybody's enjoying this little birthday gift so far... *passes out cake*

As a housekeeping matter, I made some tweaks...including a special addition that had me howling with laughter! Just because I have a plan doesn't mean I won't change it if I get a funny suggestion I think I could work with (especially if it's from our birthday girl!). Drop me a PM or a review...if I take your advice, I'll credit you in a future note!

Now, on with the show!

**stephaniew** - thank you, thank you, thank you... (If you haven't already, check my pal out...I adore her and I think you will, too.)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Nobody Touches His Baby

_About a week later..._

Dean's sitting on the couch with his feet up when Jo walks into Bobby's study. She's wearing a pair of dirt and grease smudged overalls that hang loose on her delicate frame.

"I need the keys to the Impala," she says, holding out her hand.

Dean's brow furrows. "Why?" he asks.

Jo raises her eyebrows and tilts her head to the side. "Because we've gotta get on the road early tomorrow," she reminds him. "And someone was bitchin' she needed an oil change first."

Taking her wrist, Dean puts his book aside and pulls Jo into his lap. He looks at the blue bandana wrapped over her blonde locks at the crown of her forehead and smiling at the grease streaked across her cheek. He plucks at her soft pink lips with his until her arms wind around his neck.

Pulling back, he stares into her eyes. "You look so cute with oil on your face," he tells her.

Jo's jaw tightens and she stiffens in his arms. "Quit stalling," she prods.

Dean smiles and shakes his head. "I'll change it later," he answers.

Jo pushes herself out of his lap, her hands falling to her hips. "It's your turn to do the research, Dean-O. Don't think you can half-ass it just to play under the hood of the damn car," she fumes.

"Baby," he says, trying to soften her.

"Oh, no," she replies. "Don't you 'baby' me." Turning, she moves toward the door.

"Jo, honey, come on," he whines.

Facing him, her face stern and eyes wide, she asks, "Are you gonna give me the keys then?"

Dean's eyes drop from hers. "Well, no," he answers, "I'll do it later. Nobody touches my baby."

"Aww, and I thought I was your baby," she retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I don't even let Sam touch her," he says, his voice nearly pleading.

Jo snickers. "Sam couldn't find the dipstick with a map," she snorts. "I took shop class when most girls were taking home ec. I've been changing oil and working on cars since I was 15, Dean. Fifteen!"

He laughs at her. Jo mad was hot, but not so hot he'd let her have her way. "I love you, but no. That's final."

Blowing out a breath, Jo tries to keep herself from vibrating with anger. Closing her eyes, she pinches the bridge of her nose to stem the tears from falling. "I can't believe you," she growls.

Confused, Dean watches as she stalks away. He flinches as the door slams behind her before picking up the discarded book and settling back on the couch. Maybe she just needed time to cool off.

One thing's for sure, he'll definitely be staying out of her way...


	3. The Way to a Man's Heart

**A/N: **I'm not a good sick person...thus no update yesterday. I remain determined to finish by **Silverspoon**'s birthday...and will double down on updates to get there if I have to. Consider yourselves warned!

Steph says this one's sweetness made her smile...

Special thanks to **stephaniew** for friendship, betaing and encouragement. Check out her profile and show her some love!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

The Way to a Man's Heart

There is a hustle and bustle in the small restaurant. Wait staff twirl like choreographed dancers, shuffling between tables and serving patrons. Silverware clinks against glassware and plates as customers stir coffee and cut into their meals.

Two men and a woman sit in a corner booth waiting to be helped. The blue vinyl of the seat is well worn, tufts of white filling fluffing through cracks. The furnishings, much like their waitress, appear tired and old. Her orthopedic shoes creak along the sticky tile floor until she comes to stand at the end of their table. Her stern bun and tight expression are as no-nonsense as the way she quickly barks, "What'll it be, hun?"

Ever the charmer, Dean gives the old girl a wink. "I'll take a chili bacon burger, sweetheart," he answers with a grin.

Sam and Jo roll their eyes, but both notice the way the older woman softens. Sam shakes his head disapprovingly at his brother before turning back to the menu and quickly ordering a salad. Jo orders a baked potato, loaded with everything, and, just as Flo is about to walk away, she adds, "And a slice of cherry pie, please."

Dean looks at his girlfriend. It's not unusual for them to order dessert, but they usually wait until after the meal if they're not ordering take-out. "Ordering dessert first? What gives, Harvelle?"

Jo's eyes flick around the restaurant. "Do you see how busy this place is? I'm not taking any chances."

Dean scoffs. "There was plenty over there," he chuckles.

Sam pulls out the file and they talk until their food arrives. He watches his brother's eyes as the follow the pastry down to the table in front of Jo...and as she tucks it well out of his reach at the opposite end of the table. The relationship between his sibling and the young, female hunter is playful. She brings out a side of Dean that Sam has rarely seen.

They make small talk. Jo tells them about her talk with Ellen. Sam mentions Bobby's theories regarding their current hunt. Dean grunts, nodding around his burger. The conversation winds down as the meal progresses, Dean pushing fries around his plate and coating them with ketchup as Jo pulls the plate with the triangle of pie closer to her.

Dean flags Flo down, eager to prove to Jo that there was no need to order dessert in advance. He licks his lips as he watches her mouth close daintily around the blob of flaky crust and gooey red filling on the end of her fork.

"Can I get a piece of pie, too?" he asks on her arrival.

Flo frowns, tucking her notepad into the pocket of her ruffled apron. "I'm sorry, sugar," she says shaking her head. "We're all outta pie. I'm afraid your lady-friend here got the last piece."

Dean grumbles, his face falling into a pout.

Standing on tiptoe, Flo glances at the rounded formica countertop before turning back to the group. "Looks like I could get you a slice of chocolate cake though," she says hopefully.

Dean shakes his head. "Just the check," he answers.

Jo is about to take another forkful when she sees her boyfriend's sullen expression. She rolls her eyes and slides the remainder of the pastry in front of him. He grins like a fool and, for a moment, she shares in his delight. And then he says _it_.

"Aww, ya see Sammy? She loves me..." he moans around the fork. He quickly eats a second forkful and then a third. It was good. So good. "Nothing I love more than a good slice of pie..."

Jo swallows hard. Her eyes briefly meet Sam's and she stumbles to get up. "Um," she says. "I...I'll just be a minute..." she tells them before hurrying to the ladies room.

"Dude," Sam says, "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"What are you talkin' about, Sam?" he asks.

"Did you see the look on her face?" Sam fires back.

"What look?" Dean searches his memory, the dessert momentarily forgotten.

Sam laughs uncomfortably. "She's crazy about you," he says softly. "And you just professed your love for baked goods. Smooth, Dean, real smooth."

"I'm not like you," Dean snaps. "I don't do this chick-flick stuff."

"I suggest you better learn then," he answers. "Because you're practically living in one."

Confusion and a hint of wonder cross Dean's features. He realizes Sam is right. He and Jo have been practically inseparable for months now. "How?"

Sam runs his hand through his hair. "Do you really need me to give you a biology lesson?" he asks, a blush staining his cheeks. "Certainly sounded like you were doing just fine last night..."

"That's messed up, Sam," he answers, shaking his head. "I mean how am I supposed to tell her how I feel? I'm no good at..."

Jo slips back into the booth. Dean pushes the last two bites in her direction. They smile at each other. Across the table, Sam can't help but wonder if his older brother will ever figure things out. They'll have to take it one day at a time.


	4. How Do I Love Thee? Lemme Count the Ways

**A/N: **Dear Sinuses, Please kindly shrink to your normal size so I can think clearly enough to write. Thanks, Me.

You know it's bad when you call in sick and your boss laughs because she's been expecting you to do it for the last three days. Yes, I am _that_ girl. Good times.

I was worried this wasn't as funny as it was in my head, but Steph says she giggled...lemme know what you think? Please?

Have you hugged your beta today? I'd hug mine, but I'm germy. *VIRTUAL BIG SQUISHY HUGS* for **stephaniew**...I'm not entirely sure what I'd do without her. Oh, and in case Steph wasn't the only one who caught my typo in the last one - No. She doesn't _beat_ me. She does, however, remind me to stay hydrated and fuss at me for not taking care of myself... ;)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

How Do I Love Thee? Lemme Count the Ways...

Dean stares blankly at the computer screen. _50 Ways to say 'I Love You'...could it really be that easy?_ He begins to read down the list, mumbling several to himself.

"You're the hole in my donut," he snickers, shaking his head. _Yeah. No._

Jo walks into the kitchen without a word. She heads over to the fridge and grabs a beer. "You want one?" she asks, breaking the silence hanging in the air between them.

"Thanks," he says with a nod and a smile. _At least we're talking, _he thinks.

Jo sets the bottle on the table beside him and watches as Dean's hand wraps around her wrist. Fighting the urge to twist away, she allows herself to be pulled into his lap.

He looks into her eyes, noticing - perhaps for the first time - the tiny golden flecks that shimmer against the coffee-colored background of her irises. They compliment the honeyed waves that fall over her shoulders. He smiles at her because he can't help himself. She's beautiful.

Jo can't help but wonder what's going through Dean's head as he stares at her. She gasps at the gentle pressure of his thumb as it sweeps across her lower lip, realizing that he hasn't kissed her all day. Not for a full 24 hours at least. _Have we gone that long since we've been together? _she wonders.

As if sensing her thoughts, he cups her face and drags her lips to his. His fingers comb through her hair and she finds herself melting into his arms. She accepts the gentle prodding of his tongue and slips her arms around his neck. The kiss is slow and filled with heat and longing. She's breathless when they part.

Dean looks over her shoulder, quickly scanning for the right line. He grins, sure that he's found the one that'll make her understand what's in his heart. Leaning in for another kiss, he mumbles, "You make me wanna vomit little chocolate hearts..."

Their lips collide for a moment before Jo pulls back. "Wait," she says, her brow furrowing. "What did you just say? I make you want to vomit?"

Dean flinches as though he's been slapped. _Time to think fast._ He slams the laptop closed and grabs his beer as Jo scrambles from his lap. "What?" he says, trying his best to sound appalled. "No! Not you! Never!"

"I don't know what the hell's gotten into you lately, Dean-O, but," she sighs heavily. Grabbing her own bottle, she takes a generous pull from the neck as she rolls her eyes.

"Jo, baby, I..." he fumbles, his face turning red. "Um..."

"Spill it, Dean," she tells him. "Get it off your chest. You'll feel better."

He gulps. No way could he tell her the truth now. His eyes light on the closed laptop. "I love..." he sputters, "Sam...but dude's got really weird taste in porn. I mean granny-tranny-dwarves?"

"Yeah," Jo says, her eyes going wide. _I got nothin', _she thinks to herself. "So not what I was expecting..." She runs her hand over the back of the kitchen chair in front of her for a moment before nodding toward the door. "I'm gonna call Mom and hit the hay," she tells him with a stretch. "Been a long couple of days..."

Dean watches her walk out the door. He gulps his beer, opening the computer. "Granny-tranny-dwarf porn. _That's _what you come up with? Awesome, Dean, awesome."

Motioning with his hand between himself and the direction she left, he says, "Umm...you and me? Yeah. You and me."

Shame he hadn't noticed that one sooner...

**A/N: **In case you're curious, the website Dean was looking at really exists...as for the granny-tranny-dwarf porn, it's been a running joke with my best friend for years *shrug* your guess is as good as mine...


	5. Dreaming of You

**A/N: **Number 5. I know it's a short one, but the next one is longer...

Yes. I'm torturing them. I know. I'm a bad girl. Would it make you feel any better if I said it's actually a lot harder to write these than I thought it would be? No? Yeah...I didn't think so. As long as the birthday girl is enjoying it, I figure I'm okay...you're still having fun, right, **Silverspoon**?

To my friend, beta and writing partner, **stephaniew** - thank you for going the extra mile and checking in on me this week. Y'all should check out Steph's latest _10 Ways Dean Winchester's Been Kissed._ She's got some great things planned!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Dreaming of You

He's cold. Everything is numb. Except for that tingle. The one you get when a body part falls asleep. Like it's buzzing or being pricked by hundreds of tiny little pins. You can't shift your weight without sharp shooting pain rocketing through your entire being.

He's helpless. He can't move. He can't breathe. All he can do is watch. Watch as she is thrown about like an unloved rag doll. Watch as she lays broken on the pavement.

He struggles to get to her. It's like he's treading saltwater. Heavy. So heavy. It seems to take an eternity to get there. To take her in his arms and hug her close as the life force drains from her body.

He calls out her name. Kisses her face. Pleads for her to stay with him. But it isn't enough. It's too late. She's gone.

"I love you," he whimpers, clutching the warm, soft body of the woman in bed with him.

"Dean?" Jo questions, still half asleep.

She rolls to face him and his lips meet hers. The kiss is soft and tender. It soothes him, lulling him back into a peaceful slumber.

Because she isn't _really_ gone. She's there. With him. In the bed they share. Whether he's actually said the words to her or not...


	6. Burning Down the House

**A/N: ***whistlesinnocently* Wanna know a secret? This wasn't part of the original plan...but then I decided to go a slightly different direction, it just seemed...I dunno..._right_. Besides, what kind of birthday fic would this be if it didn't include a little bit of smut? I mean, really...especially considering all the trouble Dean has been getting himself into...

Steph and I have debated an 'I love you' in this kind of scenario. I said it couldn't be done. But she made it work, much to my surprise and delight in her _Confession_. I'm not even gonna attempt to pull it off because nobody could do it the way she did...check it out and show her some love, I guarantee you won't be disappointed!

**stephaniew** - Thanks for coming along for the ride and taking the time to help me work things through. You are a treasure and I am incredibly blessed to have you as a friend.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Burning Down the House

The scent of smoke catches her nose before she sees the black cloud drifting down the hall. Jo Harvelle is on her feet in an instant, rushing in the direction of the source. But this isn't a demon. Dean isn't tangoing with some ferocious spirit.

Nope. He's standing in front of the oven, cursing up a blue streak with one of Ellen's ruffled aprons tied around his waist as he stares at the charred carcass of what she can only assume used to be a chicken in her grandmother's old dutch oven.

"Need some help there, Dean-O?" she laughs.

"Not funny," he retorts as the smoke alarm begins to blare.

Jo shakes her head and throws open the kitchen window, getting the situation under control. "Take that outside and turn on the fan, would ya? I'm gonna stop the racket..."

Dragging a chair into the hall, she does just that. In seconds, she's stopped the shrieking of the detector and started fanning away the smoke. She turns off the oven and starts in on the mess he's created.

Dean's arms snake around her waist and for a moment she stiffens in surprise. His lips find her neck and he makes his way up to her ear. "I love it when you take control," he hums quietly.

She turns in his arms and he pins her to the counter, taking her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. His tongue darts against hers and she reaches down to tug on the apron ties, dragging him closer.

Pulling back, he looks into her eyes. The look he sends her is naked and vulnerable. She takes a deep breath and holds it while nibbling her kiss-swollen lower lip. _Could this be it?_

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he tells her, his forehead dropping to lean against hers.

"So, we'll order pizza and pop in Zeppelin VI," she teases with a smile. She tilts his chin up. "Least you didn't burn down the Roadhouse."

Dean pushes away and moves to stand at the kitchen table with his back to her. "It was supposed to be perfect," he complains. "Instead, you're putting out fires and cleaning up after me..."

"Whoa!" Jo giggles. "Stop the presses, I believe the great Dean Winchester is having a chick-flick moment!"

"Jo," he says, tilting his head to the side.

He thinks Sam is the one with the puppy expressions, but not tonight. Tonight he's the one that looks lost and it pulls at her heart. She approaches him, eyes twinkling as she wiggles her eyebrows. "I got a fire you can put out, Winchester..."

"Do you?" he asks, brows shooting upwards.

"Mmm hmm," she hushes in a kiss. "It's gonna take quite a hose..." she breathes against his mouth, her hands sliding up his thighs.

She laughs throatily when he scoops her up in a fireman's carry and heads for the stairs. She's still chuckling when he dumps her in the center of the bed. The sound dies on her lips when he reaches to switch on the bedside lamp.

Then he's over her. They're all hands and lips and tongues. Clothing is peeled away. Skin burns against skin. _This _really _wasn't how things were supposed to go,_ he acknowledges guiltily to himself. _Well, this _was_ where I hoped it would go. But not until after..._

"Jo," he coos against her throat, "Baby, I..."

"Dean..." she whimpers, clinging to him. Her mouth moves over his pulse point.

_I love you,_ he thinks. But the words won't fall from his lips. _I love you._ He wants to scream it, but he can't. He knows he can't say it in bed. Not for the first time. Knows that he's blown his chance for the night. Knows that all he can do is hope to _show_ her how he feels.

He takes her slowly. The intensity of all the new emotions is weighty. He feels things he's never felt before, but finds he's not afraid. Not with her. Not with Jo.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

He says it with his eyes, staring down into hers. He says it with his touch, his fingers gliding tenderly across her skin. He says it with the way he kisses her and pushes her toward release.

He chants the words over and over in his head. Wishing he could say them. Wishing now were the time. Wishing...hoping...he'll have the courage to say them in the light of day.


	7. Luv Ya, CU L8R

**A/N: **I loved this concept, but I'm not entirely sure I like the way it panned out. PS - I also intensely dislike text speak...which really didn't help matters at all.

**stephaniew** - thanks so much for putting up with me and all my silliness...as discussed, I _really_ don't wanna know what I'd do withoutcha. Stick around, okay? Please?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Supernatural._

Luv Ya, CU L8R

Dean's gone when she wakes up. It's not entirely unexpected, because Sam's been pestering him about a new case for days. Still, waking up naked in an empty bed when you weren't alone the night before is never a pleasant feeling.

Especially not after a night like last night. Pulling herself up, Jo leans against the headboard and adjusts the covers around her chest. She sees their clothes strewn haphazardly around the room and grins. _Good Lord, what had gotten into him? It had been so intense... _

She stops herself from completing the thought. Stops herself from wondering what he would have said in the kitchen if she hadn't encouraged him to take her to bed. It wasn't worth worrying about. It didn't matter. She had him.

_Right?_ The insecure little voice makes her reach for her phone. She won't call him when he's with Sam, but a text or two couldn't hurt.

_S talked u into it, huh? _she asks

_Didn't wanna wake u, _he answers quickly.

She smiles. If he hadn't completely worn her out, he would've woken her with the slightest movement. _B safe,_ she types.

She gets up, tugging on her robe. Smiling, she hums REO and begins her day.

Then she sees it. The message that sends things spiraling and makes her drop the phone.

_Luv ya, J...cu l8r?_


	8. I Think I'll Have Another Round

**A/N: **A little *cough* brotherly love *cough*...and a couple of special appearances in this one that are sure to make friends of The Roadhouse smile.

We're getting close to the end...only two more left to go! I'm biting my nails over the finale...

Special thanks to **stephaniew**...I've got something special planned to thank her for all her help with this project. Wanna help me make her day? Share a smile and shoot her a review for one of her amazing stories.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own _Supernatural._

I Think I'll Have Another Round

Dean's phone rings. The sound of it in the otherwise quiet car makes him jump and jolts Sam from his slumber in the passenger seat. He barely has the phone pressed to his ear when she starts in on him.

"Dean Winchester, what the hell have you done?"

It's Ellen. And she's pissed.

"Whatdoya mean what've I done?" he asks. _Oh God. Jo. I haven't heard from Jo._ "Ellen, is she alright? Where is she?"

"She's sitting at the bar with Ash," she barks. "You wanna explain why my baby girl is piss drunk and my bartender is acting like a psychologist, boy?"

He looks at his watch and searches for a mile marker. "Cut her off. I'll be there in 20," he says. Hanging up the phone, he casts a glance at Sam. "Shut your pie hole, Sam."

Sam laughs, shaking his head. "Dude, you are so busted. Not only did you screw things up with Jo, you just hung up on Ellen."

_Oh. Shit. What've I done? _Dean panics and steps on the gas. He grits his teeth and stares at the road.

"Who tells a woman he loves her for the first time via text message anyway?" Sam chuckles. "Oh, wait. You did. Got any last words, Dean?"

"Jerk."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When he walks into the Roadhouse, he finds her sitting on a stool at the bar. Her elegant fingers are wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey.

"You're the best, Dr. Badass," Jo mumbles almost unintelligibly. "You and that crazy Kentucky waterfall always have a way of makin' me feel better..."

Ash wipes a rag over the space in front of him. Pointing a finger at her, he teases, "Don't knock the do."

Dean steps up beside her and leans an elbow on the bar. He looks into the red-rimmed puddles of Jo's eyes and touches her face. "I'll take it from here, Ash," he says. "Thanks."

The man behind the bar turns to Jo. "You want me to stick around, Jo?" he asks, "Or you got this?"

"S'okay, Ash," she slurs. "He can't do any more damage tonight."

Dean feels wounded, Jo's barb more than hitting it's mark. He watches as she unsteadily attempts to raise the glass to her lips and pries it from her hand. "Come on, babe," he says. "I think you've had enough."

"Who asked you?" she snaps, sliding off the stool and standing chest to chest with him.

"Jo," he warns, his voice sharper than the blade of her favorite knife.

"Why, Dean?" she asks. "What's it matter?"

He says nothing, instead just standing before her and watching the hurt flash in her eyes.

"Oh," she says, her tone laced with mock thoughtfulness. "Jus' because you love me you think you can tell me what to do?" Picking up the glass, she downs the remaining liquor in a single gulp. She presses the back of her hand to her mouth and pushes past him.

Dean follows quickly, barely catching her as she stumbles. He supports her, wrapping her arm around his neck. "Come on, princess," he sighs. "Let's get you to bed."

Once in their room, he perches her on the edge of the bed and carefully removes her clothes. As he tugs one of his t-shirts over her head, she sniffles. "Why can't you love me?" she asks, he voice sad and childlike. "Am I unloveable?"

Stripping off his own clothes, he climbs in bed beside her and pulls her against his chest. "Shhh," he soothes. "Don't say that..."

She snuggles closer and feels his fingers in her hair. "Why, Dean? Why can't I be enough?"

He feels her tears pool on his bare chest and his heart clenches. He kisses her forehead, waiting for her sobs to subside. When she's quiet, he tells her softly, "Jo, honey...you're more than enough." He sighs, his fingers slipping over her shoulder and hugging her tight. "I never thought I could feel this way..."

A soft snore breaks the silence of his pause. He shakes his head softly and runs a hand through his hair. He cuddles close and whispers in the darkness words that liberate him even as they fall on sleeping ears, "I love you more than you could ever know."


	9. You, Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore!

**A/N:** We've got a double shot of Dean to finish this up. I feel horrible about not staying on track and getting this up yesterday but lack of sleep thanks to a sick puppy finally caught up with me. The final chapter will go up after a short intermission.

This wasn't part of the plan either, which is what I think what really killed it yesterday. You should be reading a conversation between Dean and Sam where Jo overhears all but the last part - Dean's confession. But I was talking to my best friend about this story and the subject of giving a woman flowers came up. Given our shared allergy issues the last few weeks, this seemed a more appropriate piece for **Silverspoon**'s birthday puzzle.

Special thanks to **stephaniew** for her help and support. Steph has been a real trooper finding ways to work in betaing and helping with ideas in the middle of a hectic work schedule. She's an amazing friend and a talented writer. Check her out and join her for her latest story _10 Ways Dean Winchester's Been Kissed_!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

You, Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore!

Dean stretches. Well, he stretches as best he can given the dead weight of the blonde hunter sprawled over his sleeping appendage. He smiles at her as a snort escapes thinking of times he's worked himself out of exactly this situation with other women.

Jo is perfectly peaceful...except for the trucker-like snoring and slight trickle of drool. The fact that these things make him chuckle - that his heart leaps within his chest and the label _'Mine!' _pounds through his veins - only confirms that his feelings are real. For a moment, he considers shaking her awake or kissing her into consciousness, his heart filled to bursting with love for this woman.

But he stops. He knows all too well the hangover she'll likely be suffering from. Knows that the pain of a throbbing head will ruin the moment. _Jo deserves a moment, _he thinks to himself. _And, dammit, I'm gonna give her one..._

He gently pulls his arm out from under her, strategically placing a pillow within her grasp. Tugging on his jeans, he grabs a t-shirt and slips from the bedroom. A grin pulls the corners of his lips up as a plan forms.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the kitchen, Dean fusses over a tray lined with hangover remedies. Alka Seltzer fizzes in one corner next to Bloody Mary and Hair of the Dog cocktails. Dry toast and a banana lean against the last of Ellen's homemade muffins.

"Oh, bless you for drinking this crap, Sammy," he laughs, pulling a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge. The last item in his quest located, he walks back to his supplies and places it next to the prize of the grouped items - the thing it took him the longest to collect and put together - a pitcher filled with wild flowers.

He'd get Jo rehydrated and fed. Then, while she rested some more, he'd run her a bath. There's a reason he can call chick-flick moments. He's watched a few. More than a few. _And people think Sam's the romantic,_ he chuckles.

Pushing the door closed with his foot, he settles on the edge of the bed. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," he says quietly. When her eyes flutter open, squinting against the sun, he beams at her. "There's my girl..."

"Dean?" she whispers hoarsely. "What time is it?"

Getting up, he moves to the window and adjusts the blinds. "That better?" he asks.

Jo struggles to push herself into a seated position, pressing a hand to her forehead and grimacing. "Just how much did I have to drink last night?"

Dean laughs. "You and Mr. Daniels were very good friends," he teases, rejoining her in the bed and settling the tray into her lap. "I've brought reinforcements."

She stirs the tomato juice with the stalk of celery. Her stomach churns at the thought of eating the muffin even though blueberry is her favorite. Her eyes begin to burn and her nose tickles.

"You brought me flowers," she says, forcing a smile. She reaches for the Bloody Mary, stumbling over the words as she continues. "Dean, umm...about last night..."

"Jo, I'm sorry," he starts. "I..."

"No, I'm..." She presses the back of her hand to her nose, drawing in a few deep breaths as the tingle becomes worse. "I'm...ahh...ahh...AH-CHOOO!"

The sneeze rattles everything on the tray. The glass flies from her hand, slashing Dean in a bath of tomato and vodka. The first is quickly followed by a second, upsetting more of the contents in her lap. "Dean, I..."

He grabs the tray and sets it on the bedside table before placing his hands on Jo's arms to steady her as she tries to catch her breath.

"Is that ragweed?" she asks.

"What?" Dean answers. "Ragweed? They're wild flowers, I picked them myself..."

"Get them out of here," Jo directs, her eyes beginning to leak. "I...I...ah...ah-choo!" She looks up at him, her brown eyes sad and puddling. "Please, Dean. NOW!"

Taking the tray, he heads down to the kitchen. He mutters under his breath as he enters the room, "Ruined, it's all..."

Sam chuckles. "What the hell happened to you? Attacked by a possessed tomato?"

Ellen lowers her coffee cup to the table and stands up. A smile touches her face as she joins Sam in his laughter before plucking the Gatorade from the tray and carrying it over to the sink. "Nice weeds," she teases, rinsing the bottle off and shaking her head. "I better go check on Jo."

Dean lets out a noise somewhere between a snarl and a frustrated whimper. "I thought they were wild flowers."


	10. From the Heart

**A/N: **You know what today is? It's Sam's birthday! As a token of Dean and Jo 'shipper affection, let's all run out and leave her some great reviews as a special birthday treat. *sings* Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, **Silverspoon**! Happy birthday to you!

Sam - I hope you have enjoyed this little gift...and that you find the final entry is a worthy cap on the series. Thanks for all the smiles, inspiration and encouragement. I hope you've had a spectacular day worthy of how wonderful you are!

Can I get some great big Dean hugs for my pal and beta **stephaniew**? We wouldn't be here without her help and support. Thanks, Steph, for all the little (and not so little) things you do on a daily basis. You, my dear, are a truly amazing friend.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

From the Heart

Jo slams the passenger door as she gets out of the car. "What'd Dean have to do that was so damn important?" she yells. "And why couldn't you've handled this yourself?"

Sam sighs, his brother's words echoing in his ears. _Just get her there, Sammy. I'll do the rest._ Stepping beside her, he places a hand on Jo's back and propels her into Uncommon Grounds.

"What kinda ghost haunts a coffee shop, anyway?" she bites. Seeing the sandwich board sign with it's cheerful chalk lettering brings an additional growl. "And it just _had_ to be open mike night, didn't it?"

Sam tries to smile and shrugs his shoulders. "He just said for us to check it out." Looking at her, he knows she still feels like crap. Attempting to soften her, he steers her to a chair near the stage and says, "Look, why don't you just sit and relax, okay? I'll see what's going on."

Jo drops onto the soft leather cushion with little protest and Sam gets her a mug of tea. Other patrons mill about, finally coming to settle into neighboring chairs and couches. A man drags a stool to the middle of the stage and leans against it with a microphone in hand.

"Hello and welcome to Uncommon Grounds' Open Mike Night," he says with a grin. "We try to do these every couple weeks - opening the floor to artists of all types - and we've got a couple special performances tonight. Thanks for coming out and enjoy the show!"

Jo rolls her eyes at a comic who talks about stupid things her boyfriend has done. Making messes. Being demanding. Not trusting her. _He's got nothin' on Dean,_ she thinks with a wry smile. Though at least Dean's flaws, while frustrating, were more lovable than obnoxious.

Her eyes search the room for Sam and she spots him talking to the man from the stage. Their conversation appears easy, natural. _Maybe there isn't a hunt here after all_, she thinks to herself_._

Getting up, she begins to walk to the counter when a deep voice stops her in her tracks. "I don't usually do this kinda thing," he says, idly strumming the strings of a guitar. "But I've sorta been a real asshat lately and well..."

Spinning around, she sees Dean sitting on the stool and her jaw drops. The mug falls from her fingertips and smashes against the tiled floor, but she doesn't move. She gulps as their eyes meet. Green eyes shining, he stares back at her and begins to sing as though they're the only ones in the room.

"I can't fight this feelin' any longer, and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow," his voice is soft, his gaze glued to her face. "What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had a way to let it show."

A tear trickles down her cheek at the memory of the day they met. The way she'd held him at gunpoint in the Roadhouse. She thinks about how Dean and Sam rescued her from the spirit of H.H. Holmes. About how they formed a playful friendship, sparring with and teasing each other even when they were miles apart.

"I tell myself that I can't hold out forever, I say there is no reason for my fear. 'Cause I feel so secure when we're together. You give my life direction, you make everything so clear."

Dean's fingers falter slightly on the cords, though his voice remains strong. He knows he can't hold out anymore. Knows life - especially the life of a hunter - is far too short. And she does make him secure. She gives him peace and fills him with hope every time she smiles or cuddles closer. He's not sure what's held him back, but he knows now that she _is_ his path. That's completely clear.

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might."

Jo struggles to breathe. She remembers the first night they fell together her like it was yesterday. He'd been broken and bloodied. And scared. She'd never seen Dean look so terrified. She'd patched him up and he'd kissed her in the glow of the old jukebox. He told her about the deal he'd made for Sam and they'd cried in each other's arms. Later, they'd found themselves in her bedroom and made love in the flicker of candlelight when a storm took the power out.

"I can't fight this feelin' anymore. I've forgotten what I started fightin' for. It's time to bring this ship into the shore and throw away the oars forever. 'Cause I can't fight this feelin' anymore. I've forgotten what I started fightin' for and if I had to crawl across the floor, come crashin' through your door, baby, I can't fight this feelin' anymore."

A smile touches Dean's lips. He knows now why his dad became obsessed with hunting the demon that killed Mary. He knows he'd be the same way if he ever lost Jo. As if she senses his thoughts, she comes to him and he sets aside the guitar to wrap his arms around her.

"I know I'm no Kevin Cronin," he says softly. Brushing his knuckles over her cheek, he tucks her hair behind her ear. "But I mean it..."

Her hands resting on his shoulders, a shy smile paints its way over her face and into her eyes. Licking her lips and looking into his eyes, she answers, "I'm afraid I'm gonna need you to spell it out for me, Dean-O..."

He gives her a lopsided grin. "I'm tired of holding it back, Jo," he says. Leaning in, his mouth slides over hers. It's hot and wet, it searches and reaches for something deeper. Something he finds when her knees buckle and she melts further into his arms.

That's when he pulls back. His eyes find hers and he sees everything he wants for the foreseeable future. "I love you." His tone is clear and true, his gaze unwavering. "So much, babe..."

Jo launches up on tiptoe, sealing her lips to Dean's. She nibbles his lower lip before ghosting her tongue against his. She's smiling when they part breathlessly. "I love you, too."

Dean beams, running his hands up her back. "Yeah?" he asks.

Jo nods and finds herself consumed by another kiss. A kiss that's rudely interrupted when someone in the audience yells, "If I'da wanted to see a chick-flick, I'd've gone to the movies!"

Prying his eyes away from Jo, Dean turns to the man with a stern look and points a finger. "Shut your piehole!"

Leaning her head against his shoulder, Jo laces her fingers with Dean's. "He's not even worth it," she laughs looking up at him. "Take me home?"

Grabbing the neck of the guitar, he allows her to guide him off the stage. Winking at Sam as they hit the door, he drags Jo to the Impala. "Let's get outta here."

**A/N:** Hmm...I may have to write that one next. Until next time, thanks for reading... ;)


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